


It’s always haunting me

by Purplepumpkinfic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel/Dean Winchester - Freeform, Castiel/Dean Winchester One Shot, Destiel - Freeform, Emotionally Hurt Castiel, Gen, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, castiel and dean winchester - Freeform, coda 11X3, destiel preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:22:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25639456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplepumpkinfic/pseuds/Purplepumpkinfic
Summary: Recent events bare too much on Castiels shoulders, fortunately Dean is there to help him find his way.Gen but can be read as destiel pre slash.
Kudos: 17





	It’s always haunting me

Castiel sat on one of the chairs of the bunkers main hall, flipping through pages of lore trying to find anything that sounded like what the two winchesters have described, which unfortunately he was having trouble identifying, it also didn’t help that he felt utterly drained.

After the horror of the past week he was left in a constant state of exhaustion, the attack dog spell had left him in pieces, he couldn’t even leave the bunker, being too weak, he hated not being able to help as much as he could, but Sam had told him staying and resting was the best help he could provide, and to watch this so called Netflix to relax, so there he sat.

Castiel closed the book with a sigh, he hadn’t found anything yet, but he was sure it wasn’t a Whisperer, the chair scraped the floor as he stood, he figured he should head to the library to find any other book that might tell him what he needed to know, and maybe refill his cup of coffee, Dean said he might be a coffee addict.

And then that’s when it struck him, what a human thing to do, drink coffee, be addicted to coffee, to need rest, he never needed any of those things when he first came to earth, his time spent stripped of his grace taught him what it actually meant to be human, most of his time without his grace he spent on the streets, cold and hungry, but for its majority he was afraid, always looking behind his shoulder for any unforeseen threat, never being able to be left in any state of calm, with the angels in his trail he refused to stay in one place for more than a few days, and now that he got his grace back, for some strange reason he didn’t feel completely whole.

‘What are you Castiel?‘

The question hit him like a punch to the guts, he remembered what his beaten brother Josiah had told him, ‘I would rather die than owe my life to you Castiel, you play at being noble, at being one of us,’ he’d said, his dying last words filled with fury and betrayal, ’but I look into your eyes, and I don’t see an angel staring back at me,’

It terrified him, and at most times he tried to not think of it, but in the dark, all alone with only his thoughts to keep him company, they crept up and spiralled their dark grip on him mind.

He shook his head, he could have sworn for a moment he smelt burning flesh.

His gaze slid to the mug sitting innocently on the table and suddenly he was angry, why was he angry, the rational part of him told him it was only a mug, just a tool, but that filled him more with rage, just a tool, a tool used to obey orders, a tool used to convey the will of others, a tool to be tricked, used then thrown away, Castiel absently realised he was staring at the mug but it’s presence was too much to bare, he picked it up, gripping it so tightly thin cracks spiralled in its sides, and threw it against the wall, leaving him breathless, gulping down air he shouldn’t need, he was an angel, and angels didn’t need to be this weak.

He staggered back and gripped his head, for a moment his vision went hazy, he used the wall beside him to steady his step, it took him a minute or ten, but eventually he could open his eyes and face the mess he had made, dark liquid covered the broken shards of ceramic, he inhaled a deep breath to compose himself.

’Isn’t that what I do best,’ he thought bitterly, ‘making messes.’

/

After some more research Castiel finally found out what the Winchester were hunting, some weird mix of werewolf and vampire, or as dean insisted, a werepire.

Since then he’d been trying some of the shows on this Netflix, the plot continued to confused him but even more so since he couldn’t entirely focus, he tried to keep up with whatever was going onscreen, but his mind felt fuzzy, he curled up some more in his bed and snuggled in his blanket, it’s warmth washing over him, as if to protect him against the world outside the bunker.

‘What are you Castiel?‘

Again the question invaded his mind, he closed his eyes in frustration, he was an angel, wasn’t he?

And that’s what made everything even worse, he couldn’t say that with the same confidence he used to, like a small piece of the puzzle that was him went missing, maybe it wasn’t there in the first place.

His own brothers didn’t see him as their own, they saw him more human than angel, always siding with the Winchesters, in his weakness under the spell he should have known better than to trust them, he thought he could go back to his home and they would help him, he was foolish, but he didn’t blame them, after all he’d done they had no reason to trust him, even if he’d helped in restoring heaven they would never forget , he went against his orders throughout the apocalypse, something his brothers would never understand, then in his manic he slaughtered thousands of his brothers and sisters, all those who dared appose him, for the sake of humanity was what he had said, but he now knew they died because of his own arrogance.

‘Not even a speck of angel left in you.’

Despite himself, most of the time he preferred earth, it was so much more freeing, he could indulge himself in his fathers creation, gaze at the sunflowers and bask in the crisp air, explore his newly found taste of coffee, and sit in the wide park for hours witnessing humanity, it never ceased to amaze him, Castiel was there when his father had made Creation, the stars burned into existence right before his eyes, planets exploding into their form, it was the beginning of everything.

But it was nothing compared to his time on earth, with the Winchesters, he remembered leaning against baby as rays of the setting sun landed on his skin, a warm feeling his old self would never let himself enjoy, but he couldn’t deny that on earth... he’d never felt so happy, alive, it was different than anything he’s ever experienced in his long life, and he loved it, he loved humanity, so much that Castiel would burn for it.

And he did.

‘Honestly, I think you came off the line with a crack in your chassis.’

A shiver run down his spine, the bleach white room was blinding, he could feel the drill scorching through his head, pained screams bouncing around the wall, fists clenched tight as he struggled more and more to get away, he didn’t want this, he wanted to remember, he wanted to keep his free will, the drill dug harder and harder and another hoarse scream rippled through his throat he couldn’t breath he couldn’t think he just wanted to get away get out I need to get out let me go please just let me go-

He blinked and he was back on his bed inside the bunker, a small breath shuddered out of him, he felt too hot, and as much as he willed it his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

After all this time seeking redemption, trying to atone for all his mistakes, trying over and over to do the right thing, to help those who needed it, to fix heaven, to help humanity, he made his mistakes, he regretted those mistakes, he would do anything to take them back, all he wanted was to help, so why did it have to hurt so much.

He wasn’t an angel, and he wasn’t a human.

Maybe he was nothing at all.

/

“Hey Cas!”

Deans voice rung loud in the bunker, announcing his arrival with Sam, heavy footsteps stomped down the stairs as they entered the main hall of the bunker, he dropped his duffle and gave a ridiculously load groan as he stretched his arms high and wide above his head, he noticed Sam rolling his eyes at him, and felt a smirk stretch up his face.

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

A chuckle passed through him, it felt good to just laugh with his brother, he’d missed it, he wouldn’t admit it but all the fighting was tearing him apart, so he was glad they were a team again, the world could be ending but at least he could rely on his family, team free will always and forever, he shook his head, he was getting sappy with his old age, and then shook it again, cause he was not old.

Speaking of, Cas hadn’t showed his face yet, maybe introducing him to netflix was a mistake, seeing as the Winchesters had been around for quite a while, Cas had been healing after the turmoil of the attack dog spell, and Dean felt his chest ache, the memory still fresh in his mind of Castiel convulsing on the ground before him, whimpers escaping his clenched teeth, Dean had never seen the angel in so much pain, he felt so helpless as to do anything about it, just hoping Rowena would stay true to her word, but as the squirming died down Dean found himself grasping Cas’ cheeks, a silent promise that he’s going to be okay, and that he’s there and will never let go, he stared into his glazed blue eyes and swore to himself he wouldn’t let anything hurt his family if he could help it, he would protect what mattered most to him.

Dean headed down the hall towards the angels room, he rapped a knock on the closed door, but when no answer came he tried again, waited about 20 seconds which in his mind was 10 seconds too long, and yeah maybe he drank too much coffee on the road back home but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t trust his gut feeling of *i need to get in there and see if he’s okay right now* he barged into the room, and found him sitting on the edge of his bed with wide eyes, “Dean?” And oh man, Dean felt a small flush spread on his cheeks, realising maybe he had just rushed into this and maybe he was being a bit paranoid, but after what had happened he couldn’t help it, he cleared his throat “Hey Cas, how’s it going?”

Castiel titled his head from where he was sitting “I didn’t realise that you were back, seems I lost track of time...” he shifted his gaze away from the Winchester, Dean noticed the sagged frame of his friend, his friend was still recovering so he and Sam had decided that he was on lock down till they were sure he was well enough for a hunt, the attack dog spell had left the angel worse for wear -convulsing withering on the ground is he alive oh god please be ali- Dean blinked, he should really cut down the caffeine on long drives.

“Good job on the research back there,” entering the room, Dean winced as a particularly sore bruise spiked, “Those werepires can be a real pain in the ass.”

“You’re hurt.” Said cas, and he suddenly felt the familiar touch of the angels hand brush his forehead, the small rush of cool healing grace coursing through him and just as quick it was gone, with it all his aches, he couldn’t help but sag in relief.

“You shouldn’t be doing that, you know,” dean said, frustrated of his friends need to heal him, the bed dipped as he sat beside the angel “They’re only bumps and friging bruises, nothing serious, I’ll survive,”

Dean glanced at the angel, “you’re still low on your mojo, you need to take it easy man, don’t go wasting your energy on lil ol’ me,” he chuckled.

He saw Cas’ eyebrows pinch as he turned his head and gazed firmly ahead, Dean arched a confused brow, “hey, you okay bud?” Cas was definitely acting weird, the angel was stubbornly avoiding looking at him.

“Hey man, talk to me, what’s going on?”

Castiel closed his eyes, still refusing to look at him, “Dean.”

“Come on Cas, spill.”

“There is nothing to be spilt, Dean.”

“I call bullshit.”

Castiels’ knuckles whitened as he gripped the sheets beneath him, slowly he turned and Dean saw the same face he saw down in that abandoned building, tired and afraid, he felt his blood turn into ice, yeah, there was something seriously wrong here.

“Everything I touch I destroy,” his nails dig deeper in his palms, “ I’ve screwed things up more times then I can count, since the beginning, whenever I’m involved I manage to make it worse, I’ve caused so much pain, *slaughered* my own brothers, I caused the fall, and even before that, purgatory, leviathan, the trail of destruction I’ve left behind, how could I ever atone for what I’ve done,”

“Cas...” Dean reaches out a hand but Castiel shrugs it away, “Cas, come on, you know that’s not true.”

“Theres blood on my hands, Dean!” And Dean blanches, “I even hurt you, so many times,” he takes a breath, “I hurt you and I keep on hurting you, how can you even stand to have me around, to even look at me?”

Something strong squeezed Deans heart, silently he stood up off the bed, turned to Cas and crouched in front of him, reaching out gripping his shoulders, “You listen to me, I know you, and I know that you’ve tried your best, everything you’ve done, it was to help, to help me, or to help heaven, even though we all know they don’t deserve it, and you know what happens at the end of the day? you end up getting hurt, and I’m sorry for that Cas, but I’m glad you didn’t turn out like your asshole brothers, hell, you’re probably the only one from up high to actually give a crap about earth, I know you’ve never done anything for the wrong reasons.”

“you and I both know the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Castiel huffed

Castiel turned away again but Dean gently pulled him back towards him, “hey, look at me, we’ve all screwed up here, me, you, Sam, hell, we all have a surprisingly good track record of of royally fucking the world up, but we always try our damned hardest to fix it, I know it doesn’t erase what’s happened, and it doesn’t ease away the gaping hole in your chest, but it doesn’t mean we give up on ourselves as much as you want to, or eachother for that matter, we keep fighting, together, guns blazing till the end of the line.”

Deans hand glided down Castiels arm and set on his hands, and Castiel gazed into Deans eyes, his blue eyes piercing as if staring directly into his soul, and that probably wasn’t far off from the truth, he leaned his head into Deans shoulder, resting his head, “I wish it was different, I wish... that I did so many things differently,” the angel exhaled softly, “but I don’t regret rebelling, I’m glad I rebelled, and for what it’s worth, Dean, I’m glad to have met you, that’s one thing I’ll never regret.”

Dean set his hand on the back of the angels head, and blinked away the stinging in his eyes, “And I’m so glad I met you, Cas.” Castiel lifted his head and smiled, that awkward crooked smile of his, and Dean couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped him, as bad as things could get, and whatever lay ahead of them, he knew they could take it on, cause they were together, guns blazing till the end of the line.


End file.
